


what a pair we make

by katierosefun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano basically tries to make her two dads make up, Anakin Skywalker Is A Mess, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Post-Episode: s04e15 Deception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: “Stop,” Anakin said, whirling around. He was breathing hard—too hard—when he whirled around. Obi-Wan stared at him, his eyes wide and hurt, and Anakin knew that he was the reason for it all, but he couldn’t stop, not with the words rushing out of him fast and hard now. “Just stop. Okay?” He took a step back away from Obi-Wan. “You did what you did. What you had to do.”“You don’t believe that,” Obi-Wan said quietly.“Clearly,” Anakin said bitterly, “you don’t really care what I believe. I’m pretty sure the last few days just proved that.” He turned back around. “I’m tired,” he muttered, and he left it at that.He half-expected Obi-Wan to follow him.Obi-Wan didn’t.[or after the events of the Deception arc, Anakin avoids Obi-Wan like the plague, and they hurt each other in the process like the idiots they are.]
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 20
Kudos: 530





	what a pair we make

Anakin was used to not being able to sleep. He had always been a light sleeper when he was a kid, anyways—learning quickly that it would be better to stay awake and alert than anything else. Sleep eluded him even when he became an apprentice, when he _really_ couldn’t get used to the Temple, no matter how hard he tried. And after the war started, sleep was something that became more and more difficult to procure.

Ahsoka was asleep in the room next over: he knew because he could feel her relaxed presence through their bond. How she was able to do it, Anakin didn’t know. After _tonight_ , he still wasn’t able to know. He envied that much about his young apprentice.

That wasn’t to say she hadn’t been upset about the unfolding of the night’s events. No, she had some thoughts of her own when Obi-Wan changed back into his former self. Anakin knew it because for the first time in her life, Ahsoka seemed unable to say anything.

She had been upset too, and Anakin realized only hours later that it had been Ahsoka who had cradled Obi-Wan’s head when he crashed into those crates—it had been _Ahsoka_ who must have been checking desperately for Obi-Wan’s pulse, trying frantically to reach out for his presence in the Force before Anakin finally reached them.

But even with all of that, Ahsoka had given Obi-Wan a small, weary smile. “Glad that you’re back,” was all she had said, and even though her voice was light, only a fool would have missed the slight distrust inflected in her tone.

But now, Ahsoka slept, and Anakin was awake.

Anakin slid out of his bed. There was no point in staying here. He would just drive himself insane, staring up at the ceiling until the sun finally rose. He tugged on his boots, shuffled out of his room with only the slight hush of his door in his wake.

The hallways were quiet as usual, save for the occasional hum of a light flaring. Anakin let his feet lead him through the corridors, half considering whether he should just walk out of the Temple entirely, take a stroll through the Coruscant levels himself, but he dismissed that idea quickly. On a normal day, he might have gladly welcomed the distraction of the neon lights and the overbearing noise, but today hadn’t been a normal day.

Anakin found himself walking towards the Archives instead. The Archives was quiet, like every other part of the Temple, but still lit with the gentle blue glow of holocrons and computers. Anakin highly doubted he would find Madame Jocasta awake now, which was all the better. Crossing the Archives, he wasn’t sure what he was even looking for—if anything at all. Just that his feet led him here, to this quiet place.

Anakin would have at least amused himself by ducking into one of the numerous shelves if he hadn’t seen an all-too familiar figure first.

Anakin stopped short. Just a few paces from him, Anakin could see Obi-Wan slumped over a computer. His head was nestled in his arms, face turned away from Anakin. Maybe it had been because Obi-Wan had been technically on the run the last few days, or maybe it had just been because Anakin hadn’t seen him in a few days, but Obi-Wan looked smaller and thinner than he had been before.

Anakin looked around the Archives in vain, wondering—hoping—if there was anyone else who would drag Obi-Wan back into his quarters, but there was no one. Just his luck.

He could turn around. He could go back to his quarters right now, sleep this whole night off. Obi-Wan had fallen asleep in the Archives before. He’d fallen asleep in weirder places before, and he’d been fine the next morning. Every time.

This time wouldn’t be any different.

(But that wasn’t true.)

Clenching his jaw, squaring his shoulders, Anakin walked over to the desk. He stopped just two paces away from Obi-Wan, still facing his back. “Hey,” he said, nudging the chair with the tip of his boot, “wake up.”

Nothing.

Anakin puffed out a half-groan, half-sigh. “Master. Come on,” he said, forcing himself to walk around to face Obi-Wan—and he paused.

His former master’s face was pale, too pale. Anakin definitely hadn’t been imaging things—Obi-Wan’s face seemed to have shrunken since the last time they were actually together. Before everything.

“Fine,” Anakin mumbled. He reached over, shook Obi-Wan’s shoulder briefly. “Come on, Master. Wake up.”

Obi-Wan stirred, let out a soft sound of disproval as his eyes dragged open. He blinked a few times, probably adjusting to the light, until he finally focused on Anakin. Obi-Wan straightened, his arms falling away from the desk as he did so. “Anakin,” Obi-Wan said.

“Master Kenobi,” Anakin said, tilting his head in a half-bow. He ignored how Obi-Wan flinched at the title. _Good_ , Anakin couldn’t help but think as he took a step back.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was taking a walk,” Anakin replied.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows knitted together, and Anakin wanted to walk out of the Archives just then. _No_ , he wanted to say. Obi-Wan wasn’t allowed to be worried about Anakin right now. “This late?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yeah,” Anakin said shortly. “This late.” He gestured to the desk. “Found you here. Figured Madame Jocasta would ban you from the Archives if she found you here again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “That wouldn’t be good. Thank you.”

Anakin lifted his shoulders. “Well,” he said. _Good night_ , he meant to say, but he couldn’t find the energy to say them out loud. He only gave another half-nod to Obi-Wan and started to walk back for the doors. He only just passed the first set of shelves when he heard Obi-Wan’s hurried footsteps after him.

“Anakin, wait—” Anakin felt a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened because this was _not_ what he wanted, not now—

“Get off,” Anakin said roughly.

“You’re angry with me.”

“I said, get _off_ ,” Anakin said, shrugging out of Obi-Wan’s grip. He could just see the pained expression on Obi-Wan’s face now, but he didn’t dare turn around. If he turned around, he would have to talk. About _that_. About how Anakin had been the one grabbing Obi-Wan’s shoulders, _begging_ him to come back— _come back, come back_ —as Ahsoka watched on with tears silently sliding down her cheeks. Anakin would have to talk about how the world broke around him that night—how it broke the night after, and the night after that, and the night after that.

“I would have told you—”

“Would you?” Anakin couldn’t help himself. The words came out white-hot, sharp as he started walking again. “Because I don’t know, _Master Kenobi_ , it seems like you were all ready to go along with whatever scheme the Council had ready for you.” He made a sharp turn out of the Archives, back towards the hallway. He wasn’t sure where he was going now, just that he needed to get away. Blood pounded in his ears as he continued, “It’s just typical Council business, right? Nothing personal.” _Never personal_.

“Anakin, slow _down_ —”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“ _Anakin_ —”

“ _Stop_ ,” Anakin said, whirling around. He was breathing hard—too hard—when he whirled around. Obi-Wan stared at him, his eyes wide and hurt, and Anakin knew that he was the reason for it all, but he couldn’t stop, not with the words rushing out of him fast and hard now. “Just _stop_. Okay?” He took a step back away from Obi-Wan. “You did what you did. What you had to do.”

“You don’t believe that,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“Clearly,” Anakin said bitterly, “you don’t really care what I believe. I’m pretty sure the last few days just proved that.” He turned back around. “I’m tired,” he muttered, and he left it at that.

He half-expected Obi-Wan to follow him.

Obi-Wan didn’t.

\--

Anakin didn’t sleep.

He was still staring up at the ceiling when the sun finally rose.

\--

Ahsoka shoved a bowl of porridge towards Anakin. He looked down at the bowl and lifted his head back at Ahsoka, eyebrows raised.

“You look terrible,” she said, sitting down across from Anakin. She had porridge, too. “No offense.” She passed a spoon along to Anakin, pushed it gently into his hand with just the slight pressure of someone who wasn’t willing to be argued with.

“I’m not hungry,” Anakin said, trying to set down the spoon, but Ahsoka was quick, pushing the spoon back into his hand. “ _Ahsoka_ —”

“ _Master_ ,” Ahsoka mimicked, and when Anakin scowled, she smiled. “There it is,” she said, and she retreated back to her own porridge. “You said you were going to spar with me today, remember? Don’t want you to faint on me because you didn’t have enough energy in your system.”

“I do not _faint_ ,” Anakin mumbled.

“No,” Ahsoka said dryly. “You definitely faint. Collapse, if your ego can’t take it.” She shrugged, taking a bite out of her porridge. “Either way, _I_ always have to drag you back to the healers, and I’m not in the mood to do that today.”

Anakin paused. “How’re you feeling?”

Ahsoka looked up quickly, spoon half-dunked into her porridge. A second too long passed before she said, “I’m fine. A little sore.” She looked at Anakin, her smile turning into an apologetic grimace as she added, “Last night was something else.”

 _You have no idea_ , Anakin thought, but he nodded anyways. He looked down at his porridge, still unable to find any appetite. Still, aware of Ahsoka watching him, he managed to swallow down a few bites before quietly stirring the porridge around more than actually eating it. He waited for Ahsoka to finish, and when they finally deposited the dishes away, he let Ahsoka carry him away into mindless chatter about which drills she wanted to complete.

Anakin was only half-listening, catching bits and piece of different grips and forms. They were just about to walk out of the dining hall when Ahsoka suddenly stopped talking, and Anakin was wondering if maybe she was more tired than she let on, after all, but then he looked up and saw that no, she had stopped because Obi-Wan was standing right in front of them.

“Master Kenobi!” Ahsoka’s voice was suddenly too loud for Anakin’s ears. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” Obi-Wan replied, smiling gently at Ahsoka. “And you?”

“Also well,” Ahsoka said, returning the smile, even though it was just a smidge too tight. “Anakin and I were just about to spar.” She glanced up at Anakin, and he looked down at her, offering only a small shrug. Ahsoka pressed her lips together briefly and then turned back up to Obi-Wan. “Care to join us afterwards?”

Anakin stiffened. Ahsoka shot him another sidelong glance, but he was already looking away, trying to find anything— _anything—_ else to focus on as a terrible silence stretched between the three of them. Anakin half-expected Obi-Wan to say something: _go on, say something_ , he thought, but it was Ahsoka who cleared her throat first.

“Well,” Ahsoka said at last, “we’ll be in the training rooms. You’ll know where to find us, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she tugged at Anakin’s arm, and the two of them were walking out of the dining hall, their strides equally quick.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke as they weaved through the corridors.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said. “So. That.” She looked at Anakin, her expression softening. “Something happened last night.”

“Yeah,” Anakin muttered. “Naboo happened.”

“ _No_ ,” Ahsoka said, slowing down. Anakin didn’t, and with a groan, Ahsoka quickened her pace to match his. “You went out last night.” As Anakin opened his mouth to protest, Ahsoka said, “I _heard_ you.” She met Anakin’s eyes. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

Anakin stopped in front of one of the training rooms. “Judging by your chattiness, you’re ready for drills.”

“Master,” Ahsoka started, but Anakin shot her a sidelong look.

 _Drop it_.

Ahsoka pressed her lips together. But she walked into the training room, and Anakin followed her inside. The door slid shut behind them, but neither activated their sabers. For a moment, Anakin thought Ahsoka was going to say something—he could tell that she wanted to say something more, just from the slight lift in her shoulders, the continued pursing of her lips, but she stayed quiet. Anakin felt a quick jab of guilt.

“Listen,” he sighed, looking down at Ahsoka, “I know what you’re doing, but you don’t have to waste your energy on it.” He unhooked his light saber from his side. “Now come on, show me what you’ve got.”

Ahsoka wordlessly unhooked her own light sabers, and she walked to the other end of the training room. “Ready?” she called.

Anakin managed a smirk. “Always.” He waited only for Ahsoka to smirk back before jumping to action first. Their light sabers clashed against each other, the blue and green light temporarily dashing into white light. Anakin vaguely remembered a time when Ahsoka and he had sparred solely using training sabers—that had been the protocol for a long time, but Ahsoka had made it clear that training sabers were of no use to her anymore, and Anakin found the slight thrill of sparring with their own sabers much more comfortable, anyways.

Ahsoka kicked herself up over Anakin, and Anakin only had a second to turn himself around to meet her sabers. “You’re getting faster,” he commented.

“You’re not gonna distract me,” Ahsoka said, baring her teeth into a fierce grin.

Anakin only smiled back before diving to the side, causing Ahsoka’s light sabers to follow him. He grounded himself against the wall, used the surface to rocket himself to the other side of the room. Ahsoka followed him, her movements swift and lithe as she matched him blow for blow. Anakin couldn’t help but feel a small rush of pride as Ahsoka parried, blocked, struck back at Anakin. She had come a long way from the scrappy youngling she had been when she first came to him, that much he knew for certain.

Anakin pushed back at Ahsoka’s sabers, allowed her to struggle just a little before she shoved back, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Anakin only gave himself a second before pulling away, readying himself on the other side of the room as Ahsoka expertly twisted her sabers around her hands. The only sounds in the training room were the faint buzz of their sabers now, their heavy breaths as they adjusted to the sudden exertion of energy, the light taps of their feet against the floor as they circled one another. Outside, Anakin could hear the speeders of topside Coruscant around him, the faintest whispers of younglings training in nearby rooms, an engine. Familiar sounds, a familiar setting.

“Getting tired?” Anakin asked.

“Not on your life,” Ahsoka replied, wiping at her face, and this time, she drove in for the offense first. Anakin feinted left, drove for Ahsoka’s right and met her saber. Ahsoka grunted a little under the pressure, brought her other saber down as additional support. They stood locked in position, and Anakin was wondering when Ahsoka would give up when Anakin’s comlink went off.

“Gonna answer that?” Ahsoka asked.

“This doesn’t mean you win,” Anakin said, but he shut off his light saber and took the call. “Skywalker here.”

“Anakin,” came Obi-Wan’s voice. “You’re late for the debriefing.”

Anakin’s stomach went cold. He ignored the look Ahsoka gave him, instead stared down at his boots, past his comlink as he replied evenly, “I’ll be there in a second.” He shut off his comlink before Obi-Wan could say anything else.

“Debriefing?” Ahsoka asked, hooking her light sabers at her sides.

“Forgot about it,” Anakin muttered. He looked over at Ahsoka and added, “Besides, you know that I would prefer sparring over a boring Council meeting any day.”

“Can I come?” Ahsoka asked, and Anakin paused by the doors.

“You don’t have to,” Anakin said, turning around. He knew Ahsoka hated these Council meetings almost as much as she did— _almost_. Anakin was fairly certain she’d rather stand in front of the Council instead of polishing R2, at the very least, whereas Anakin would take extra droid time any day of the year. “They don’t expect you to come.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said, following Anakin out of the training room, “but I _was_ at Naboo too.” She shrugged. “Might as well tag along.”

Anakin paused, letting his gaze linger on Ahsoka as she walked alongside him. Her expression had turned into one of complete neutrality, which Anakin instantly didn’t trust. The only other time Anakin had seen her wear that expression was when she had lied about coming along to the Citadel mission. Casual voice, shoulders slightly clenched together, eyes carefully blank. The only reason why Anakin hadn’t forced her to get back on the ship was just because Obi-Wan had stepped in—

Anakin pushed the thought out of his head. Obi-Wan didn’t have a right to get in his thoughts right now. He had lost that right the minute he agreed to the Council’s tricks.

“Fine,” Anakin relented, making his way down the hallway. “But don’t get me in trouble.”

“I never do,” Ahsoka said, and Anakin could only roll his eyes at that.

\--

Anakin did his best to not make eye-contact with Obi-Wan as he recited the events of last night. He didn’t care if it made him look petty—he didn’t care what the Council thought about him right now, not after everything they had done. And, just to top it off, he made sure to talk straight to the windows. He could feel the growing tension in the room, whether that was coming off of the Council members or Obi-Wan or Ahsoka or even himself, he couldn’t tell. They all just seemed to muddle together in front of him, the pressure winding up tighter and tighter in Anakin until Master Windu finally broke the silence.

“That is all?” he asked.

“That’s all,” Anakin replied. He waited another heartbeat before adding, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Council members, I need to resume my trainings with my Padawan.” Anakin could feel the tension reach a peak right there, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sweet satisfaction. _No one_ excused themselves from Council meetings.

Ahsoka, however, explained quickly, “Master Skywalker and I have been sparring. That’s why we were a little late.” She glanced up at Anakin before looking back at the Council, continuing, “But if there is anything else—”

“No, that is all,” Windu interrupted. He fixed his stare back up at Anakin, and Anakin took care to focus on the speeders out the window. “You are dismissed.”

Anakin gave a small, stiff bow of the head before retreating out of the room. Ahsoka followed in suit, but almost as soon as the doors slid shut behind them, they opened again—and before Anakin could walk away, Obi-Wan called out.

“Anakin,” he said. “Wait.”

“Don’t you have a Council meeting to resume?” Anakin asked, not bothering to turn around.

“No,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Really,” Anakin said flatly. “Well, good for you.” He gestured halfheartedly with his hand. “Come on, Snips. Told you we’re not done with our match.”

There was a pause, and when Ahsoka didn’t say anything right away, Anakin finally turned around to look at her. “Ahsoka,” Anakin said, but Ahsoka hovered in between Anakin and Obi-Wan uncertainly. Although Ahsoka didn’t say anything, Anakin could feel the tension rise between the three of them, feel the winding in Ahsoka, and at last, Anakin sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Take the day off.”

“Master,” Ahsoka said quietly, but Anakin was already turning back around.

He could feel Ahsoka and Obi-Wan’s eyes trained on the back of his head. He decided he would go to the training rooms himself. He needed to let out some steam.

\--

Anakin’s limbs were burning as he finished the last drill. He kicked aside one of the training bots, ignoring the screech it made as it crashed to the ground. Anakin fell back against the wall, breathing hard. He wiped the sweat from his face, wincing only a little as some of it got in his eyes. He slid down to the ground, taking a few seconds to adjust to the blurred room.

When Anakin finally cleared the sweat off his face, he tried standing back up, only to come crashing back down a second later. Anakin inhaled sharply, trying to get his bearings. He rested a hand against the wall and forced himself back up to his feet, swaying only for a second before managing to right himself.

Tired. That was what this was. A feeling that Anakin couldn’t quite get used to, nor one that he particularly liked whenever it came around. Still, Anakin looked down at the abandoned training bot on the ground. He instinctively reached for his saber, already considering re-starting the program, but then he found the room blurring before him again, and Anakin only had a second to lean back against the wall before he was falling back to his knees.

Anakin bent forward, his hands meeting the ground as the room continued to spin around him. He blinked dots out of his vision, tried to steady his breathing as his hands came in and out of focus. _Breathe_ , he thought. _Come on. Breathe_.

He waited one second, then two, then three. His chest hurt. _Oh_. That was new. Anakin swallowed, one hand struggling for his chest, the other still propping himself up as he remembered how to regain his breath. His heart was pounding fast—too fast—and for a second, Anakin wondered if this was what having a heart attack felt like, because he felt as though his heart might give out any second—

Anakin gasped, shoved himself back into a sitting position, slammed his back against the wall. He tilted his face up to the ceiling, up to the dim lights as his breaths stuttered out in infrequent, inconsistent bursts. _Come on_ , he thought, trying to stamp down the cold confusion spreading through him. Panic. The panic. Not good. That wasn’t good.

Anakin’s eyes burned, though whether it was from the sweat or from something else, he couldn’t tell. He reached for the Force on instinct—but no, things seemed to be sliding out of his grip the second he would think he had regained the slightest bit of control. Control, patience, ease, whatever stupid things the Jedi taught him (Obi-Wan taught him) seemed to slip whenever Anakin tried to grab ahold of it—

And then the training door rushed open.

“Get out,” Anakin growled, whipping his head to see who the intruder was, and then he was staring up at Obi-Wan— _again_ , he thought, frustrated.

Obi-Wan was frowning. “What are you doing on the floor?” he asked, and he started towards Anakin, but no, Anakin tried to push himself back, but his arm gave out, causing him to crash to the ground instead.

“ _Careful_ ,” Obi-Wan started, already extending out an arm, and too late, Obi-Wan was already tugging Anakin back into a sitting position. “You look awful,” Obi-Wan said, his brows furrowed together. “How long have you been in here?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Anakin muttered, trying to wrench his arm out of Obi-Wan’s grip, but his former master held fast.

“Ahsoka’s worried about you,” Obi-Wan said. “She told me that you didn’t get too much sleep last night. And that you hardly ate anything this morning.” He glanced out the window, where Anakin knew he would find the setting sun. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Anakin bit out. Using his other hand, he pushed Obi-Wan off him. Anakin gritted his teeth and ignoring the look Obi-Wan gave him, he staggered up to his feet. He took one step, two steps towards the door. Three steps. The door blurred before him again, coming dangerously in and out of focus. Anakin blinked, shook his head to himself, and before he could lose his nerve, shoved himself through the door.

Anakin winced at the bright light of the hallways, but he pushed on. His head hurt now, in addition to his limbs and his chest. Sleep. He probably should have gotten more sleep. Anakin realized that now. But whether he would—

Anakin could hear Obi-Wan following him—feel the hesitation from him, and Anakin both wanted to turn around and keep going, but his head hurt, and he didn’t know whether he could actually look at Obi-Wan without knowing that it had been _Obi-Wan_ to keep Anakin hidden in the dark. It had been _Obi-Wan_ deciding to not trust Anakin, while Anakin had grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder and _shaken_ him, scrambled for even the faintest sign that his master was still there—

And then there had been that fight on Orondia. Anakin could have killed Obi-Wan—no, he _wanted_ to kill the man who Anakin didn’t _know_ was Obi-Wan. And then Obi-Wan had done that _thing_ , slipped Anakin right under, left him right in the dark _again_.

Anakin wasn’t sure how he got to his quarters in one piece, but he did. And when he went inside, Obi-Wan followed.

“Masters,” Ahsoka said, standing up quickly. Her eyes widened as she took in Anakin, her gaze skimming over him several times before asking, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Anakin said. He headed for his room, more and more dots swimming in his vision with each step he took. “I’m just gonna…”

He was aware of a sinking feeling, and then he heard a sharp shout—multiple shouts—

\--

“Has something like this happened before?”

“No. This is a first. Anakin—well, he’s stubborn. He doesn’t admit when he’s tired.”

“Something like this happened on Orondia, though—he couldn’t…he was tired. And overwhelmed.”

“…I see.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Master Kenobi—”

“No, no, I would imagine how this must seem—”

Anakin opened his eyes to find Ahsoka and Obi-Wan sitting by him, their faces equally drawn in concern. Anakin would have tried to go back to sleep except Ahsoka saw him first, and she straightened up, a relieved smile already spreading across her face.

“Welcome back, Master,” she said. “How’re you feeling?”

The pain in his chest was gone, at least. His head still hurt. Anakin was glad that the lights were dim in his room. “Fine,” Anakin mumbled, sitting up. He pushed a hand over his face. “How long was I…?”

“A few hours,” Ahsoka replied. “We didn’t know whether to get you to the healers or not.”

“Glad you didn’t,” Anakin muttered. “That would have been a waste.” He looked over at Ahsoka, whose smile had faded. “What?”

“She’s worried,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin flicked his eyes over at his former master. “ _We’re_ worried.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Anakin told Ahsoka. “This is a one-time thing. Won’t happen again.” But Ahsoka only bit down on her lip, giving Anakin the same disbelieved look that she had given him starting this morning.

“Master Kenobi’s worried too,” Ahsoka said at last, and she tilted her head towards Obi-Wan’s direction. _Talk to him_. She stood up. “I’m going to food. I’ll be back.” She shot Obi-Wan a significant look, and Anakin felt the slightest twinge of annoyance at how some understanding seemed to flow between them. And then Ahsoka left, leaving nothing but stale air between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said first, “do you want to talk or should I?”

“Don’t see how there’s anything to talk about,” Anakin grumbled, rolling over on his side, turned away from Obi-Wan. The move was petty, he knew, but Anakin didn’t care. Obi-Wan was in _his_ quarters; Anakin got to act the way _he_ wanted, whether Obi-Wan liked it or not.

“Well, I do,” Obi-Wan replied. “And I think you do, too.”

Anakin glared at the wall. “Don’t pretend to know what I’m thinking.”

“I know that you’re angry with me,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I know that you think I don’t trust you.”

“It’s true,” Anakin spat out. “You don’t trust me.” _You never do_. “I’m not some sniveling child anymore, Master.”

“You never were a sniveling child, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said tiredly.

“No?” Anakin asked. “Then why do you treat me like one?”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Anakin snapped, whirling around. He sat up straight, ignoring the dull rush of pain to his head at the sudden movement. “To you, I’m still the same Padawan at Geonosis. Right?”

“That’s not true,” Obi-Wan said. “ _Anakin_. Listen to yourself.”

“I _am_ ,” Anakin said. “ _You’re_ the one who needs to listen.”

Obi-Wan snorted—a disbelieved huff, really, before saying, “We _both_ know that’s just not the case here—”

“You’re right,” Anakin said bitterly. “The actual case here is that you _don’t trust me_.” He swung his legs over the bed, facing Obi-Wan directly. “ _I_ was the one who had to bring you back to the Temple,” he said. “ _I_ was the one who had to explain to the Council that you were _dead_.” He swallowed, ice infiltrating his veins. _No_ , he thought harshly. Those memories were _not_ allowed to intrude on him now. “I thought you were dead and gone.”

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes. “I told you,” he said quietly. “Dooku needed to think I was dead. If your reaction wasn’t genuine, then the whole plot could have been found out.”

“You could have still told me,” Anakin said. “I would have found a way to make it work. I’m better at keeping secrets than you think.”

Obi-Wan fixed Anakin with a stare, and Anakin wished he had kept that last part to himself—but too late, those words had come out to the open. For a moment, neither man said anything. Then Obi-Wan looked down at the ground and said, “This was keeping you safe.”

“Don’t play that angle,” Anakin said, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s unbecoming.”

“Unbecoming?” Obi-Wan asked, and for the first time, Anakin heard a spark in his former master’s voice. “ _Unbecoming_? Anakin, tell me,” Obi-Wan continued, “what would have happened if someone found out that you knew about my being alive? Do you really think Dooku wouldn’t have found some way to find out information from you? Found some way to sabotage the whole mission starting with you?”

“I’m not afraid of Dooku,” Anakin argued.

“This is not _about_ being afraid of Dooku,” Obi-Wan snapped. 

“The Council knew.”

“Not all of it,” Obi-Wan said grimly, and this time, Anakin looked up. Obi-Wan gestured towards Anakin. “You said it yourself—no one had the whole picture. We only had pieces of it.” He looked at Anakin. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

Anakin clenched his jaw. “You could have,” he said. “You _know_ I’ve handled worse.”

“Yes, and how well does that turn out for you?” Obi-Wan asked coolly.

“Usually pretty well,” Anakin retorted, but he knew that was a lie—they _both_ knew that was a lie. Anakin knew that there were too many close calls, too many times when either Obi-Wan or Ahsoka would look a little too relieved whenever Anakin came out of a mess somewhat still in pieces. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Obi-Wan right now, not when he was still angry. Still tired.

Finally, Obi-Wan sighed. He sounded just as weary as Anakin, maybe a little more. Anakin felt a slight twinge of guilt, remembering how weak Obi-Wan had looked last night. “I kept you in the dark,” Obi-Wan said at last. “I would imagine that the shock you felt—”

“It wasn’t just shock,” Anakin interrupted. He looked up at Obi-Wan, at the sad look his former master gave him, and something inside of Anakin tightened, because he _knew_ what Obi-Wan would say: _attachments are forbidden, let go_ , and all the other teachings that Anakin had listened to since he was a child. But Anakin lifted his chin a little higher, daring Obi-Wan to say something as he repeated, “It wasn’t shock.” He gestured out the window. “Out there? I just lost—” His throat closed, and Anakin let his hand drop down on his lap. “I lost _you_. Saying I was _shocked_ is the understatement of the millennium.”

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s voice drifted. “There _will_ come a time when I’m—”

“And what if I died?” Anakin asked sharply. “What if _I_ had been the one to take the fall?”

Obi-Wan stopped short, and Anakin felt a grim sense of satisfaction as he watched his former master’s eyes skirt to the ground.

“If you had to do it for the safety of—” Obi-Wan began, but Anakin groaned.

“That’s not what I’m _asking_ ,” Anakin said.

“I _know_ that’s not what you’re asking,” Obi-Wan replied, lifting his eyes to Anakin. “And I’m telling you that I won’t respond to that.”

“Why not?” Anakin asked sharply. Bitterly. “Scared I can’t take it?” He knew he was being unfair, but that didn’t stop the next words that tumbled out: “Or maybe that was just a stupid question. Let’s face it, Obi-Wan—you wouldn’t have felt the same if I went over.”

Anakin regretted saying those words the second they were out of his mouth, but too late, they were out, and Obi-Wan stared back at Anakin, looking as though he had been slapped.

Silence rang between the two of them as the words sank in. Anakin leaned back against the wall, feeling a wave of disgust and guilt as Obi-Wan just stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He knew the hurt now, felt it seep in the bond between them as Obi-Wan lowered his eyes.

Anakin half expected Obi-Wan to walk out then—he wouldn’t have blamed him, but Obi-Wan stayed seated, his shoulders tenser than Anakin had ever seen them.

“I would have grieved,” Obi-Wan said at last, his voice so low that Anakin suspected that he would have missed it, if he had been anyone else. “More than you know, I would have mourned your loss.”

Anakin looked at his lap. “I know,” he said quietly. Guiltily. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You were angry,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“Yeah, and then I said _that_ ,” Anakin mumbled. He pushed a hand past his face, up to his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan said, “I suspect an apology of my own is in order.” His eyes met Anakin’s. “I’m sorry too,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked the Council to exclude you from the plan. I should have put more faith in you.” He paused. “You are strong and brave, Anakin,” he said at last. “You’ve proven such on countless occasions, but…” He hesitated, and then, he finished, “You know how I worry.”

Anakin’s heart twisted. “I know,” he said. “You don’t have to.”

“If only it were that easy.”

Anakin huffed out a sigh. “Well, I worry about you too,” he said grudgingly. “More than you think.”

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a sad smile. “What a pair we make.”

Anakin managed a small smile back. “Indeed,” he said.

They left it at that.

**Author's Note:**

> This initially started off as a 1.5k vent ficlet because of some of my own personal life matters, but then I kept coming back to it, and it blew up into this ~6k fic instead. I've been re-watching a lot of the heavier arcs (i.e. Mortis, Citadel, and now Deception), and I'm just. My love for my idiots has increased tenfold. I was always a bit frustrated that we never got to see Obi-Wan and Anakin address the aftermath of Obi-Wan's "death", so I hope this was a somewhat decent stab at closure. 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!


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